


Sure

by Vituperative_cupcakes



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sign Language, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:34:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vituperative_cupcakes/pseuds/Vituperative_cupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment in the car with everybody's two favorite hitmen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sure

Mr. Numbers shifted into third and crunched down yet another back road.  Mr. Wrench sat silent(nothing new) and stared deliberately out the window(something unique to this afternoon.)

They had a few hours before Nygaard would be at a vulnerable point where they could snag him and dump him.

 _After_ he confessed to Sam’s death, Mr. Numbers reminded himself.

Mr. Wrench was sucking on his cheeks sullenly. Mr. Numbers sighed and whapped him on the shoulder.

“What?” he enunciated clearly, forming the word with his whole mouth.

Mr. Wrench signed, _you don’t respect me._

“This again?” Mr. Numbers snapped, “Jeezus—” _I just want to be done and get out of here_ , he signed quickly and put his hands back on the wheel.

Mr. Wrench set his jaw. _How do you know?_

“How do I know _what_?” Mr. Numbers said.

Mr. Wrench signed emphatically, like he was doing a series of kung-fu moves: _how do you know it was him?_

“Oh fuck’s sake!” Mr. Numbers pounded the horn with one hand. “One: He’s got a guilty-ass face. C: he’s shtupping Sam’s wife. D: he wasn’t too happy to see us, Five—”

 _Slow down, slow down_ Mr. Wrench signed frantically. Mr. Numbers watched the road for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. When he turned his gaze from the windshield to Mr. Wrench, his partner was staring right back, eyes earnest as a fucking boy scout.

 _Adam,_ he signed to Mr. Wrench, _I got a gut feeling, is all._

Mr. Wrench nodded. They drove on in silence for another minute.

Mr. Numbers felt a hand on his shoulder again.

Mr. Wrench signed. _How do you know he’s guilty? You weren’t._

Mr. Numbers sucked in a breath. They were turning down another lane that would lead them to the main road and eventually their quarry. For a minute or two he concentrated on keeping them on the road.

At a traffic light, he bit the fingertip of one glove, tugging it off by degrees. The cold was like an electric shock. Without taking his eyes from the road, he felt his way to Mr. Wrench’s side and then Mr. Wrench’s hand. He intertwined their fingers. After a second, Mr. Wrench squeezed back.


End file.
